Untitled Drabble Collection
by Girl in a White Dress
Summary: Miscellaneous drabbles.
1. Default Chapter

Title: 23  
Rating: A, for angst.  
Character: Sam  
Summary: "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil." (Psalm 23: 4)

She wakes up trembling, sweating, sometimes crying. It always takes a while to remember she's no longer in Atlanta, no longer living in the shadow of (death) Jack.

Still, some part of her is convinced that it can't really be over. She lies awake, unable to go back to sleep, to return to the place where Jack had her.

Where, for a moment in time, she was Tempted.

(Nobody knows except him, and he's dead.)

In the morning, she'll take Chloe to school and then she'll drive around looking for something to photograph.

And she'll keep looking over her shoulder.

* * *

Title: A Time for Grace  
Rating: G  
Character: Grace  
Summary: "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven." (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

Her finger is still tanned from her wedding ring. It, like the scars on her heart, will fade with time.

It feels strange to be dating again, and she has to fight the urge to call the sitter and check on the kids. She tells herself that this is her night, that she just wants to have a good time and not have to worry for a while.

Tall, dark and handsome, Marco seems nice, though a little slick for her taste.

She's not ready, she decides.

When he invites her to his place, she declines.

She's home by 10:00.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Not my characters.  
Word count: 100  
A/N: Written for **Lise** for **Yuletide**.

The first Christmas without Tom is the hardest, people say. The grief will fade with time, they say. Each day is easier than the one before.

Sam knows they mean well, but she wants to tell them they're wrong. It doesn't get any easier, knowing Jack is still out there, still killing, still doing it all for her.

Chloe has asked Santa to bring her daddy back. She drew a picture just in case Santa got confused. When Sam saw it, she cried so much her tears stained the page.

No, she thinks, it's never going to get any easier.


	3. Chapter 3

For Meg and the prompt: Jack/Sam and touch.

* * *

The room is bathed in soft candlelight, and the faintest scent of roses lingers in the air. The satin sheets are cool against her skin, but that is not why she shivers.

He is sitting next to her, close enough that she can feel the heat of his body, but not close enough that they are touching. She doesn't know how much longer her self-control will last. Already she aches to close the distance between them.

He smiles; this is a familiar game.

This time, she wins. He bends forward to kiss her neck, and she pulls him against her.

* * *

For Gabrielle and the prompt: Jack/Grace and water.

* * *

The water runs clean over her hands, but still she scrubs, wondering what is wrong with her, wondering why she's thinking things she has no right to.

Earlier, during the autopsy, she imagined Jack's knife tracing the path her scalpel took. For a moment the body on the table was alive, breathing, bleeding, dying and Grace wondered what Jack had felt as he cut through the flesh.

She still feels nauseous, and her hands have not stopped shaking.

He is in her head now too, and she wonders if this is the way madness lies.

And so she keeps scrubbing.


	4. Chapter 4

_Standalone drabbles. Originally posted on LJ._

He holds the knife to her throat. Her pulse beats rapidly beneath her fingertips and there's fear in her eyes, but there's defiance too.

He likes that.

If he's honest with himself, there's always been something intriguing about this woman. She's dark curves to Samantha's fragile beauty, but it's her spirit--

"What are you waiting for, you bastard?"

He smiles.

Then, his knife still at her throat, he kisses her. Her mouth is soft, her response surprising, and it's with regret that he finally pulls back--

"I'll see you around, Grace."

-- and vanishes into the shadows once again.

* * *

His breath warm on her skin, his kisses soft; she arches into his touch--

She opens her eyes. The bedside clock reads 01:12, its numbers flashing bright red. She's alone.

"Samantha," he whispers. His fingers dance over her ribcage--

02:27. She rolls over and tries to go back to sleep.

His body is as familiar to her as her own. She kisses her way down his chest--

03:05. She kicks the sheets off the bed, unable to get comfortable.

His arm slides around her waist, he kisses the back of her neck. "Miss me?"

"You're late."

Soft laughter. "I'll make it up to you."

* * *

_What's this whole world comin to/Things just ain't the same/Any time the hunter gets captured by the game._ (Massive Attack: Hunter Gets Captured By the Game)

It creeps up on her so slowly that she can't pinpoint the exact time where her heart and her head became divided in her loyalties. If asked, she'll deny she feels anything for him but the desire to see him locked up or dead. Of course, no one will ever ask. No one could possibly imagine the images that haunt her dreams.

There's a voice in her head that constantly recites the tally of his sins. _TomandCoopandallthoseotherpeopleand_—

And the voice in her heart, at first so small and still, now stronger, says, _buthelovesyou_ and _butheunderstandsyou_ and other things she really has no right to even think about.

So she listens to neither, and pretends nothing has changed.

* * *

_A thousand thundering thrills await me._ (Squirrel Nut Zippers: The Female of the Species)

She tucks her hair behind her ear as she mounts the steps to the stage. She smiles as she receives her degree and looks out at the audience to meet Tom's approving gaze. Tonight they will celebrate her graduation; he thinks she doesn't know about the reservations he's made at their favourite restaurant.

After the ceremony, they're on their way to the car when she hears her name. "Sam!"

"Bailey." She turns to smile at her mentor.

"There's something I wanted to ask you before any of the other divisions get a chance." A pause. "How do you feel about joining Behavioural Science?"

She doesn't even need to think. "When do I start?"

* * *

She returns home from work later than she expected. The house is in darkness and she reminds herself to check the bulb on the front porch.

She's halfway up the stairs when the smell hits her: thick, coppery, filling her nostrils, choking her.

She runs the rest of the way to the bedroom, flicks on the light, then immediately wishes she hadn't.

Morgan's on the bed, covered in blood, a single white rose on his chest.

She falls to her knees.

Later they will see Jack's message scrawled on the wall, telling them this kill is for Grace, not Sam.

* * *

Glancing down at the notes she's made, Sam wonders what she was thinking when she agreed to do this, and she's relieved it's only temporary. Trish owes her for this.

Sam takes a breath then looks up to face Jack Bristow's glare. She sighs.

"Agent Bristow, I understand this is a difficult subject for you but it's important that we have an accurate profile of Irina Derevko—"

"You have no idea—"

Her tone softens. "I lost someone too."

Jack closes his eyes. "Irina didn't kill Sydney. Her profile won't help the investigation. This is a waste of time."

* * *

"This is completely surreal, you know that, right?"

Jack glanced at Samantha over the top of his newspaper. "Surreal in what way?"

She gestured to the table between them. "You made pancakes. There's syrup. And fresh orange juice."

"Everyone has to eat, Samantha."

"And you're reading the newspaper as – as if—"

"As if we're an ordinary married couple?"

She leaned back in her chair. "Well, yes."

"We could never be ordinary, my love."

"Which is what makes this scene so surreal." She smiled.

Jack folded the newspaper and passed it to Samantha. "We only made page three this time."

* * *

Special Agent Albert Newquay – Jack to his friends – was at a course on blood spatter when his boss caught his attention. Bailey looked even grimmer than usual, and Jack slipped out to talk to him.

"Jack, it's Teri."

"What happened? Where is she?"

Bailey put a hand on Jack's shoulder, and he _knew_.

"Your neighbour heard a shot, called 911. When the police arrived, they saw the rose, and called us."

A single red rose, the calling card of the Black Widow. Jack had drawn up her profile.

"Jack, she took Chloe."

And just like that, Jack's world came tumbling down.

* * *

Sara enters the house ahead of Warrick. She feels a sudden chill, but can't explain why. It isn't as if this is her first crime scene.

And then she sees the body, and freezes. The flashlight slips out of her hand, the lens shattering as it hits the floor. Warrick's at her side in an instant.

"No one said it was Hank." Sara exhales. "I – He – I can't—"

"It's okay."

She forces herself to look at the body again. A knife in the heart. A single red rose in his hand.

She fumbles for the black light, shines it around the room.

_Hello, Sara._

* * *

She thought she'd be more afraid of him. On some level she knows she should be scared – she's autopsied the people he'd killed; she knows exactly what he's capable of.

"I didn't come to here kill you." Strangely, it's this reassurance that finally prompts the fear. "Where is Samantha?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not."

He studies her for a moment, then smiles. "I may have to kill you after all."

She doesn't respond, not out of bravado but simply because she cannot.

"Then again, maybe not." He winks, and slips out of the room.

* * *

"You're breaking up with me?"

Rich doesn't meet his gaze, and George sighs, then looks around their shared apartment. "We never see each other anymore," Rich says. "You're always working."

"My job is important."

"I know. It's just – you're never here. When was the last time we actually did anything together?"

It pains George to realize that Rich is right; he can't remember. He thinks, _my work is important, we have to catch Jack, and too many people are killing each other, and there are only so many hours in a day—_

And then Rich says, "I've met someone else."

* * *

Self-defense, Bailey says. In the line of duty, her record will reflect.

Sam knows better. Jack didn't want her dead -- he's had more than enough opportunities to kill her by now. He wanted to turn her, to make her like him. He called to the darkness inside her, and she pulled the trigger and shot him.

It was supposed to end with his death, but that's when the nightmares began.

She's smoking again, and she's dangerously close to turning into an alcoholic. Every time she closes her eyes, she's back in the cemetery, pulling the trigger.

_Feels good, doesn't it?_


	5. Chapter 5

_For Gabrielle who asked for Jack/Grace and Sharon._

Grace isn't sure she wants to autopsy Sharon Lesher. This is the woman Jack turned into a copy of Sam, but it's not for her friend's sake that Grace hesitates before picking up her scalpel.

This woman shared a bed with Jack, killed with Jack, knew Jack. Grace doesn't know why that thought makes her feel so strange.

As she slices into Sharon's corpse, it occurs to her that there is a side to Jack that only she knows. She is the one who examines the bodies so carefully.

She wonders if Jack realizes; and if so, if he cares.

* * *

_For Meg who asked for Jack/Sam and coffee._

She sits in the corner of the coffee shop, her attention focused on the file she's reading. From the notes scattered across the table, it appears she's been there for a while, and he suspects that her coffee has long grown cold.

_This is an unexpected surprise_, he thinks as he finds a seat not too near, but not too far away. The perfect start to a Monday morning; it's going to be a good week. Glancing over the top of his newspaper, he watches her and thinks about approaching, though it is not yet time.

And thinks, _soon, Samantha_.

* * *

_For Amanda who asked for John Grant being one-upped by Jack._

John Grant's problem, according to Jack, is that he thinks he can get Samantha to fall for him with charm and sweet-talking. But Jack knows Samantha better than that, knows she needs to be challenged and intrigued by a man. Jack also knows that Samantha's heart cannot be won overnight; and he has always been a patient man.

Samantha is too good for John Grant; she deserves so much more than he could ever offer her.

One day, Samantha will be his alone, and John Grant will realize what he should have already learned: Nobody gets the better of Jack.


	6. Chapter 6

_For Meg who asked for Jack/Sam and New Year's Eve._

. . .

The clock strikes twelve. Another year gone.

Lying awake in bed, she hears the sounds of celebration as one year turns into another. She mentally compiles a list of resolutions, though she knows she will keep none of them. She is a different person now, one who has more to worry about than quitting her nicotine habit or going to gym three times a week.

In her new life, she is a fugitive and an accomplice to a murderer. She is a pariah, a traitor.

But she is with Jack, and in her new life he is all that matters.


	7. Chapter 7

_For m_ravensblood who asked for Jack/Sam and too much wine/champagne._

. . .

She tells herself she's drunk. Tells herself her judgment is clouded, she's not in control, not responsible for her actions. Because then this doesn't matter and there's no need for guilt.

She blames the drinks for her response to Jack's touch and her eagerness to return his kisses.

The truth is that she's only had two glasses of wine and the buzz she feels has nothing to do with the alcohol. Her senses have not been dulled; her nerves are on fire.

In the morning, she will remember every detail and she will be surprised that she feels no regret.


End file.
